Tuesday, 25 November 2014

You look at a lot of school vision statements (as I do … for
a reason I can’t justify beyond good old fashioned nosiness) and you see lots
of different words employed. Generally,
you see some bold statements about achievement and outcomes. Then, you see the noble gases, such as pride,
endeavour, diligence. Some then try and
get all new-age and include things like creativity and inquisitiveness. More often than not, they paint a picture of
an individual whom, if embodied of all of those traits, would by either a
herculean super being or a cyborg.

Now, I’m not saying that these are inappropriate, or that
hundreds of schools – my own included – have got it wrong. These are all fine and dandy; full of
aspiration, and surely exactly where we want our schools and the next
generation of global citizens to be heading. What I’m attempting to say, very badly, is that we may be
missing one. Or that our children and
communities do it so naturally that it goes without saying.

I’m not sure the latter is entirely true. At least, not for us, and at least, not yet.

Let me explain further.

Although I have spent lots of assembly time boring our
children about aspiration, collaboration, co-operation and other values that
decorate our Vision statement and the stage in our assembly hall, generally our
children and community manage to surprise us in a hundred different ways. Despite everything we profess to hold as a
value, the one that isn’t there is generosity, yet, just lately, I have seen
such an abundance of this in so many ways that I am beginning to think it is a
glaring omission.

Just before the break we’re no longer allowed to call half
term, our harvest festival stage was once again crammed with the gifts of
donations afforded us. I have very
awkward feelings about the celebration itself, but always enjoy watching how
dried goods can spontaneously reproduce.
One tin becomes two. Two become four.
Four become six, and a packet of biscuits and a packet of golden
rice. A drip becomes a trickle, which
leads to a deluge and eventually a flood.
A flood of overwhelming generosity. That can’t be bad can it?

In my first assembly back after that holiday, I spoke about
poppies, and their true meaning. I spoke
about the horrors of that battlefield, and the stories behind the poppy. By the following Monday, our poppy box was
empty, and our money collection tin full.
Our remembrance service was full of green uniforms with a dashing and deferential
dab of red. And didn’t they look
wonderful.

In the same week, not a few days later, they arrived in
yellow for children in need. Hulking
great year 6 were unafraid of being seen in their onesie in the name of
charity. Then, at the end of that day,
in a freezing cold playground, hundreds (at least it seemed that way to me)
stayed behind for the cake sale, with a large bulk of the goodies donated by a
teacher’s dad. When the cupboard was bare, an almost invisible army silently cleared
away in the dipping, freezing sunlight without a sound.

This isn’t just a dip into whimsical prose – this is an
important point. You see, the backdrop
to all of this has been the emergence of our amazing friends group: the Buddies
of Badocks, who charmingly refer to themselves as BoB. From small beginnings in the summer, they
have gradually grown and grown, up to and including last Friday night’s Caribbean
evening, which was packed, and wonderful.
(If you haven’t seen them yet, our twitter feed - @badocksprimary – will
tell the story for you).

This is a different but by no means less important
demonstration of generosity. This is
being generous with time, with effort, with skills, with resources, and, very often,
with patience. With this kind of generosity, it’s often
others who reap the rewards. But then,
that’s the nature of giving, isn’t it?

As well as simply wanting to share the kindness of this community
– and that’s more than enough of a topic for one of my erambles – I wanted to
just draw a simple connection. I’ve been
telling the leaders and the governors that, despite some tough tasks at the
start of this year, and a lot of deep reflection about outcomes at the end of
the last, we have a number of signs that things are going well, and that some
of our initiatives are starting to embed.

Things like the number of volunteers is on the up; breakfast
club is packed; we have an ever increasing pool of people to call upon when we
need them; I can’t recall a time when we’ve had so many clubs; the book swap
for adults now looks like an outpost of Waterstones. And BoB is going from strength to
strength. Add to that all the things
listed above and you have to make a simple observation – people must really
like being in our school.

I think generosity is a bit like bacteria – stick with me
people: it will only grow and thrive if the environment and the things going on
around it are right. Clearly they are.

So when we revisit our values some time in 2015, perhaps we
need to think not only to what we aspire, but to what we have built, embedded,
and what we hold dear. After all, all
these generous people can’t be wrong, can they?

Until the big Christmas blog in a few weeks, that is all.

PS To make it quite plain, thank you everyone involved in
BoB, who have brought another dimension to our school. Your generosity is a lesson for us all.

About Me

I am from Birmingham and married to Sue. We have two drains on our disposable income, called Ruben and Thea, who regret to inform us that they intend to resent our existence for the next 15 years or so, give or take. We live in Yatton, where we have lots of friends, and where we have a million barbeques a year. I play badminton, but try not to run or win, and support the greatest team in the universe - Aston Villa FC, as well as loving a bit of rugby, cricket, golf, tennis, ...